It Takes Two
by rising-balloons
Summary: Years before the star-crossed lovers entered the arena, an unlucky brother-sister duo find themselves fighting for their lives- and each other- in the 66th Annual Hunger Games. Each only wants for the other to survive. Unfortunately, as we all know, the Games only allow for one victor...
1. Reapings

_**ATTICUS**_

I groggily open my eyes, the eager sunlight outside my small bedroom window stinging them at first until they adjust. I slowly sit up, stretching my stiff limbs.

Wait, sunlight?

I make a grab for my watch on my nightstand. Rubbing my eyes furiously, I read the time: nine thirty. Nine thirty? School started over an hour ago! Looking across the room, Allegra's bed is empty. I curse as I stumble out of bed, grab for the nearest clean clothes I can find, and yank them on. Why, wouldn't Allegra wake me? She knows how much I hate missing school. And sleeping in. And being late. You'd think your twin sister would have a better feel for you than that.

I throw the door open and race to our small kitchen, where a box of cereal is waiting next to an empty bowl. My sister Helena is already eating breakfast. She laughs when I come in the room. "What are you wearing?" she cries, laughing. "You look awful!"

"No time," I explain. "I'm late, and Allegra didn't wake me up. See you after school?" I ruffle her hair and move for the front door.

"School?" Helena asks, a hint of confusion in her voice. "There's no school today, remember?"

"Wha-" I stutter. Then, before I can even finish the word, it hits me. _The Reapings are today. Oh my God._

I slowly turn to face Helena, who is grinning ear to ear. "It's the Reapings today, isn't it?"

Helena nods.

"And we have no school today?"

Helena nods again, still smiling. I sigh, the tension leaking out of my shoulders. Thank God.

"What time are they, again?" I ask her.

"Lyra said they were at twelve o'clock," she answers. She looks me up and down. "You might want to take care of that before you go."

I pause and take a look at myself. My shirt's inside out, my pants are backwards, my socks don't match. Yikes. Helena keep talking. "Who knows, you might even be on TV!"

"Let's hope not," I reply, finally returning to the table. "I'm going to eat breakfast first, anyway."

Helena shrugs. "Suit yourself," she says, digging into her bowl of cereal once again.

After a minute of eating, I ask her, "Where is everyone?"

She pauses, thinking. Finally, she answers, "Mom is already there, 'cause she got picked to help set up and stuff. Lyra is out with Roman. I don't know where Allegra went."

"Awesome." I finish my cereal, slurping up the rest of the milk. "Listen, I'm going to go change out of this, and then come back down. Do you want help getting ready?" I add, noticing her pajamas.

"No," she says. "I can do it myself."

"Suit yourself," I reply. "Be back in a minute."

I put my bowl in the sink and head back up the stairs, hoping to find a slightly more presentable ensemble than the one I've got on right now. Even Capitol people would hate this look.

* * *

Half an hour later, I come back down the stairs, my hair combed and my clothes right side out and facing front. My socks don't match, but they never do, so no big deal.

Helena is still at the table, reading the newspaper like I did when I was her age. God, she's smart. I forget that sometimes.

"What're you reading?" I ask, pausing on my way out the door.

"There's been a bunch of mining accidents out in District Twelve. The Capitol's all mad because their coal quota hasn't been met 'cause of it," she responds, not looking up.

"Anything else?"

"Just an interview from last year's Victor."

"Alrighty then. I'm going to go find Allegra. I'll see you after the Reaping?"

Helena nods, still scanning the newspaper. I turn and head out the door. I have a feeling I know exactly where Allegra is, even if Helena doesn't.

 _ **ALLEGRA**_

I never see my mother pray. She's never really been the most religious woman. Not that there's a whole lot of religion in Panem to begin with, but our family's just never been involved. Today, though, I came downstairs at sunrise to find my mother praying at the kitchen table.

She opened her eyes, snapped back to attention, when she heard my footsteps coming down the stairs. "Good morning," she said, standing and pushing in her chair. "You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted.

She smiles faintly, but it disappears quickly. She was worried, same as me. "What do you want for breakfast?" she asks, busying herself with pots and pans. "I was thinking maybe some eggs this morning?"

"I'm fine with cereal, thanks," I replied. I got the box out of the pantry and poured myself a bowl. I handed the box to my mother, who in turn poured one for herself. We ate in silence before she finished, putting her bowl in the sink for cleaning later.

"I was selected to help set up for the ceremony today," she told me. "I'll see you afterwards, okay? Make sure your siblings get up before ten."

"Okay," I said. Then she left after leaving me a kiss on the forehead, her mouth tight and full of tension.

I'm turning this scene over and over in my head when Atticus finds me.

"You okay?" he asks, sitting down beside me. I ignore him, choosing to look out over the river instead.

District Six, being the District of Transportation, is more known for its trains, planes, and cars than boats. That doesn't mean it doesn't have any, though- a couple of large rivers allow for abundant water traffic, on its way to and returning from the Capitol, among other places. It's my favorite place to go when I need to think. I watch the steamboats chugging along, the sailboats gracefully floating past, the rare rich man's yacht.

"Hey," he says, nudging me. "It'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"You can't know that," I reply, turning to face that. He tries to speak, but I cut him off. "No. You can't."

"Allegra-"

"It could be me! It could be you! We don't know!" I say, becoming tense. "And I hate it!"

"Allegra. It's okay."

The world becomes blurry, tears filling my eyes. "I hate it."

"I know." He hugs me.

What I'd do without Atticus, I don't know. He's my brother. My best friend. I can't imagine life without him.

When he draws away, he looks at me, concerned. I wipe away the stray tear that had escaped my eye the moment before.

"Allegra, it'll be fine. The chances are so low we'd be picked in the first place. Don't think about it," he coaches.

I smile in spite of myself. Usually I'm the one coaching him. Usually he's the uptight mess. The quiet one. The worrier. I guess on days like these, we cope as well as we can.

"What're you smiling about?" he asks. "You were literally crying a minute ago."

I sigh. He may be my best friend, but sometimes he's such a brother.

"You're so good at this," I say. "Usually I have to calm you down, not the other way around."

"I learned from the best," he says, smiling with me.

We sit there for a while in comfortable silence, lost in thought together. I try not to worry about the upcoming Reaping. Usually, I can tell what Atticus is thinking, but not today. It frustrates me.

Even then, though, I'm still grateful to have him by my side. I don't know what I'd do without him.

I would probably fall apart.

* * *

 _ **ATTICUS**_

It worries me to see Allegra like this. She's always the strong one. She's never afraid of any test I spend hours stressing over, or any drama at school. She leaves it to me. But today, I can almost see the fear and worry radiating off of her.

It's okay. I'm sure it will all turn out fine. We won't be Reaped this year, just like we weren't last year or the year before. Just like we won't be next year.

We sit in silence for a while, watching the boats. After a while, Allegra turns to me.

"Thanks for calming me down," she says quietly. "I appreciate it."

"I know."

She searches my face, her question clear in hers. _Will we be safe?  
_

 _Yes. I promise._

She hugs me suddenly, which she never does. She's not the touchy-feely type. Never has been. Out of surprise, it takes me a minute to hug her back before she draws away.

"What time is it? We probably have to get to the ceremony soon," she says. "And we have to get Helena first too. Or is Lyra getting her?"

"Lyra's getting her," I reply. Our sister Lyra has survived the Reapings as of last year. She's safe, thank God. So now she gets to sit on the sidelines and watch with our younger sister Helena, as we wait to see if our lives will be put on the line for this year's Games. "We should probably start heading over there soon, though."

"Right." Allegra stands, smoothing her dress. It's a simple navy blue with long sleeves and her favorite silver necklace. The same outfit as last year.

I stand with her, and together we make our way back into town towards the ceremony.

* * *

After registering, we separate into our respective categories; Allegra into _Females, Aged 15_ and myself under the banner labelled _Males, Aged 15._ Then we wait.

Some of the other boys chatter nervously. Some are mute, the desperation clear in their faces. Another year, another extra ballot with their name on it in that giant glass ball of paper slips. This year, we all have four slips in that glass ball.

After another fifteen minutes of mindless chatter and nerves, our district escort takes the stage. It's the same one as last year, Xaveria Oberon, a tall, pale woman with golden hair piled high atop her head, her height accentuated by her impressively tall high heels. The woman's a skyscraper. This year, she's dressed as a rather tacky train conductor who seems to have fallen into a giant vat of glitter. Twice. It's no secret she'd rather be in District One or Two right now, especially when looking at all that glitter. It's nearly blinding.

She introduces the mayor and our most recent (and only living) Victor and Mentor, a man in his early forties named Errol Rudolph. The mayor of Six gives the usual speech- I'm pretty sure it's the same one every year, just with a couple of words changed here and there- before Xaveria mentions how excited she is to be here, and how exciting the Games are, and how excited we all must be, and how exciting the Reapings are. Finally, after all the excitement, she lowers one bedazzled hand into the girl's ballots, reaching around for a moment to emphasize the suspense before drawing out a single white slip. She takes a short moment to read it before announcing the name.

"The female representative of District Six this year shall be Allegra Cahill!" she declares, setting the ballot on a small table next to her. Applause answers her.

 _No._

 _NO._

My heart drops. My worst nightmare has become reality.

Someone pats my shoulder in sympathy. I can barely feel it.

I see Allegra shakily make her way down the path the crowd has parted to create for her, her face pale and eyes full of fear. They're searching for me, for Mom, for Lyra and Helena, but find none of us before she reaches the stage. She's trying to keep it together, but I can tell she is breaking.

"And our male tribute…"

Xaveria Oberon turns to the second glass ball, reaching overly delicately into its contents to draw out the second unlucky tribute. I pay no attention, my mind in a million places. I vaguely see Allegra biting her lip, watching Xaveria. I can see the plea in her eyes. I'm so busy panicking and thinking, I don't hear the name Xaveria calls next.

 _ **ALLEGRA**_

"...is Atticus Cahill!" she announces, setting the new ballot next to mine. "Oh, my!"

The air flies out of my lungs. _NO!_

I finally find Atticus in the crowd. He seems not to have heard, his eyes distant and lost. Someone nudges him and motions him to the stage to take his place next to me, and I see the realization hit him. I want to cry, I want to cry so badly, but I can't, I can't look weak, not right now-

Atticus slowly approaches the stage, eventually climbing the steps and standing next to me. For the second time today, I can't read him at all. He's just empty. Xaveria continues blabbering on into the microphone.

"Allegra and Atticus, our District Six tributes!" she cries, standing between us and lifting our hands up. The crowd applauds politely for the last time before the mayor dismisses them. We, on the other hand, are ushered offstage by Xaveria, her glittery nails poking us here and there as she guides us. I grab Atticus's hand, which is clammy. I give it a squeeze anyway. He squeezes ever so lightly back. We're lead across the square and shoved into two separate rooms. I suppose this is where we say our goodbyes.

Lyra is the first to come in, alone. She sweeps me up in a hug. God, I love Lyra's hugs- there's no other hugs like them in the world. She's crying softly. Finally, she draws away, her anxious gaze searching my face in concern. "God, Allie, I'm so sorry this happened to you. I honestly can't believe it."

No one calls me Allie anymore except for Lyra. I always hated it. Now, it just makes me cry. I finally let the sobs I've been holding in go. Lyra swoops me up into another hug.

A few minutes later, I dry my tears. "Where's Mom? Where's Helena?" I ask.

"They're with Atticus," she reassures me. "They'll be in in a minute."

"Okay." I sniffle. "Can you stay until they come?"

"Of course," she says. We sit there for a moment, her arm around me, my head on her shoulder, and she's the one to break the silence.

"Allie, I want you to know that no matter what, I'm proud of you," Lyra says. I close my eyes. "Atticus will depend on you. I know you two pretty well, and I know how you operate. I know you'll put his survival ahead of yours," her voice choking on the word _survival,_ "but I want you to come home if he can't. Okay?" She wipes her eye. "Please try to come home."

"I will," I whisper.

Mom and Helena appear at the door. Lyra gives me one last, quick hug, whispers _I love you,_ and then leaves, only glancing over her shoulder once. Mom and Helena come in, both of their eyes red from crying.

"Allegra," Mom says. "I don't know what to say."

"It's okay," I say. "I'll try to get one of us home. I promise, Mom. I love you."

My mother cries. I haven't seen her cry, truly cry like she is right now, since Dad died.

Helena takes my hand in hers. "Please don't die," she says quietly. By now, she's old enough to understand the Games and what happens to those that compete. She has an idea of what could happen to me. Something a ten-year-old should never have to worry about.

Yet here we are.

"I'll try not to," I respond. "Helena, if I don't come home, I want you to know that I love you and Atticus loves you and Mom and Lyra love you so, so much." I'm crying again. "Come here."

I give Helena a big hug, then one to my mom, and then a Peacekeeper comes in and motions for them to leave. Helena walks out looking over her shoulder, her eyes never leaving mine until the door is shut behind her. Again, I dry my tears.

A Peacekeeper, a different one than from outside, brings me to the train and leads me into a bedroom compartment. When he leaves, he shuts the door behind him. I stare out the window as District Six disappears into the distance behind us.

The door isn't shut long, however, before Xaveria Oberon opens it right back up again. "Dinner is at five o'clock! Dress appropriately!" she chirps before shutting it again, not even looking me in the eye.

Then I'm alone again with my thoughts.

 ***Hey guys! I'm back after a fairly long hiatus. I hope you guys enjoyed the Reapings- leave me a review! Updates should be fairly frequent, but I do have a life. Next chapter should be out fairly soon. Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Train Rides

_**ALLEGRA**_

I want to find Atticus. My bedroom compartment, however, is so distracting that I immediately forget about finding my brother. For the moment, anyway.

The bed is enormous- larger than both my bed and Atticus's pushed together at home- and overflowing with cushy pillows. The closet is stuffed full with shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, shoes, every fashionable item under the sun. I'm not the most fashion-oriented person, but a couple of things in there catch my eye, and I make note to try them on later. The bathroom alone is larger than my bedroom, with a high-tech shower, a dozen soaps, and too many shampoos to count. I even discover a tablet by my bed that allows me to order food and have it delivered to my room. It's insane, all of it. I'm playing with the tablet, checking out all of the food options, when I hear a knock on the door.

When I open it, Xaveria is there, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's time for dinner, sweetheart! I thought I would escort you personally- these train cars can be a little confusing. Although, you're from Six- I suppose trains come as easily to you as breathing!"

I hold my tongue, keeping myself from mentioning that I've never ridden in a train in my life. Learned about them, yes. Studied them? Absolutely. But I've never actually been in one.

Xaveria's still chattering on. "I do love these trains, even though they're not nearly as dazzling as back at home in the Capitol. Oh, I do miss my closet space! But enough about me- I'm sure you're famished. Come, come!"

She leads the way down the hall. Eventually we reach the dining car, where Atticus and our Mentor are already seated, waiting for us. When Atticus's eyes meet mine, his they're hollow. Not a good sign. I haven't seen him look like that since Dad…

"Do sit down, love. You've never had anything like your first Capitol meal," Xaveria says. She takes the seat next to Atticus, and I sit between her and Errol Rudolph, our Mentor.

Before anyone has the chance to say anything, Avoxes come in with trays full of food, silently setting them on the table and leaving. One Avox remains in the corner in case we need anything else. In the meantime, we dig in.

Oh, my God.

This. Is. Incredible.

There are soups, breads, pastas, meat, fruit (real fruit!), and vegetables everywhere. My mouth won't stop watering. Atticus and I dive in while Xaveria picks daintily at the options and Errol helps himself. Soon our plates are empty, and we're going for seconds. We weren't exactly poor in Six, and especially not by standards in other Districts like Eleven or Twelve, but especially since Dad died, things have become a little tighter. With both of us gone now, and Lyra saving up to leave, that must have taken some of the financial stress off of our mom. But even District One kids must be astonished by this kind of stuff. After my second plate, I'm full. I push my plate away and watch the others eat until they're done.

When everyone's finished, Avoxes come in again and take all the food away. A small voice in me protests, but seconds later platters of desserts are set down in front of us, and I immediately forget how full I am. Cake is a birthdays-only luxury, and I've never seen one this large. Ice cream, too! Most of it I don't even recognize.

When I'm full again, for real this time, I feel like I'm about to burst. Atticus, across the table, looks a little green. Finally, Errol breaks the silence.

"So. Atticus and Allegra, yes?" We both nod. "Well, welcome. We will be arriving at the Capitol tomorrow around noon. When we get there, you'll start preparing for the chariot rides. Then you'll have your training, scoring, interviews, and then you're in the arena."

I swallow, hard. We have a matter of days before the Games begin. A look across the table at Atticus reveals he's thinking the same thing.

"Now, let's talk strategy," Errol continues. "Are we fighting together or separately?"

"Together," we say in unison. Errol smiles.

"Wise choice. More sponsors will be interested if you're a package. You'll also each be the most trustworthy person in that arena until things get dicey. I won't stop you from taking on allies if you see fit, but I will advise against it."

"Why not?" Atticus asks, quietly. He looks a little better after having eaten, but still not great.

"You've got a strong partnership here, and any alliance- especially one with tributes from other Districts- can go south quickly," Errol answers, without missing a beat.  
I nod. Makes sense, after all. Atticus nods too, but I can see some doubt in his eyes.

"Now, in the Training Center, I want us focusing on survival skills and common weapons- think knives. Stuff you've seen past tributes use a lot, stuff that's everywhere in that arena. But survival skills first. Water, fire, shelter, food. We can't predict the arena or what the Gamemakers will supply, so the closer to self-reliant you are, the better. Especially coming from District Six, we need to nail those skills as soon as possible."

"What's wrong with Six?" I ask, curious. Atticus looks interested, too.

"Six is filled with factories, machines, and pollution. Six tributes aren't the best in nature. And, of course, you're no Careers."

I find myself nodding again. It seems obvious now that he's said it out loud, but I wouldn't have thought of it myself. Atticus might have, but not me.

"We'll review this and get into more detail when we meet for breakfast tomorrow morning, as well as after the tribute parade. Any questions?"

"We can watch the rest of the Reapings, if you'd like," pipes in Xaveria, obviously pleased to be contributing. "Get a sneak peek at the competition, right?" She smiles widely.

Errol nods, looking slightly surprised at the suggestion. I'm getting the feeling that our Escort isn't exactly known for her brains."Not a bad idea, Xaveria. We can watch it in the other car- it has a television and some couches."

"Okay," I say, and Atticus nods again.

We stand, Xaveria leading the way to a new car, filled with an enormous television, cushy couches, soft, huggable pillows, and a sleek coffee table. Errol takes an armchair, and Atticus and I take up a couch together. Xaveria makes herself comfortable on a smaller couch. Errol cues up the Reapings, and the four of us settle in to watch.

District One, Two, Four, all Career volunteers. Can't wait for that. Three is a small, redhead girl and a stoic boy, nothing particularly interesting. Five is the same- nothing unusual there either.

Then, we watch ourselves. In retrospect, I wish I'd held it together more to attract sponsors, but nothing I can do about it now. Atticus looks downright shell-shocked, though. I hear Caesar Flickerman, the usual Reapings announcer, comment on how tragic our situation is.

"Good, good," Errol muses. He's probably thinking about the same thing as me- sponsors.

Seven turns out a twelve-year-old boy and an angry, fierce-looking older girl. Her gaze seems to penetrate the screen and dig into my heart. I look away. Eight is two older kids, which could be a threat, but they both look scared out of their minds, so who knows. Nine, Ten, Eleven, and Twelve are all the usual suspects.

"And those are your tributes! My oh my, I just can't wait to interview them in a couple day's time. Tomorrow, we have the Tribute Parade, hosted by yours truly! Until then, good night Panem!" Caesar roars. Then the screen goes dark.

I sit back, thinking it all over. The other tributes, sponsors, weapons, possible arenas. I snap out of it when I see the look on Atticus's face, though. He's still shell-shocked.

 _ **ATTICUS**_

I can't handle this. I can't do this.

I'm so lost in thought, Allegra spooks me when she takes my hand in hers.

"Hey. You all right?"

I look at her, trying to communicate without using words. _No. I can't do this. I can't handle it._

"It's okay," she says softly. "C'mon, let's go to bed."

Allegra rises from the couch and addresses Errol and Xaveria. "We're going to go to bed for the night. Thank you so much for everything," she adds. I stand beside her and nod. "It's been a long day, and we'd like to get some sleep."

"Of course! Right this way," Xaveria says, rising from her couch.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm sure we can find our way back," Allegra assures her. A little confused, Xaveria sinks back into the same couch.

After a couple of minutes, we've found our way back to my room. I honestly haven't spent much time checking it out, but it must be identical to Allegra's, because she leads me to the bed and finds me some fresh pajamas without any trouble. I watch her in silence.

Finally, she sits next to me on the bed, her face full of worry. How the tables have turned from this morning.

"It's all happening so fast," I say. "Tomorrow, we're in the Capitol, and then we're in the arena, and then…" I can't say it out loud.

"Yeah," Allegra says, that same softness creeping back into her voice, along with some exhaustion. "We don't have a lot of time."

"Do you think we can trust Errol?" I ask. "And Xaveria?"

"Xaveria seems a bit… airheaded, but she tries," she answers. "What's wrong with Errol? He seems like he knows what he's doing."

"He's never gotten anyone out of there alive," I counter. "And I thought he sounded too… rehearsed at dinner. Like he's got the speech memorized and gives it every year. All of his tributes have died, Allegra."

"That's not his fault."

"And, of course, he does drugs," I add.

"That was years ago! He's recovered," she argues. I shake my head.

"Maybe publicly, for appearances or something. Morphling's one of the most addictive drugs out there. There was that article in the newspaper last month-"

"What other choice do we have?" Allegra interrupts. "Than to trust Errol? He's our Mentor, Atticus. We don't have anyone else in the Capitol that can help us."

"You're right. I'm sorry," I say after a minute of silence. "I'm just… I'm freaking out. I don't know what to do."

"I know. Me too."

"Yeah, but-"

"It's fine," she says. "Don't worry about it."

I honestly don't know how she's kept it together so well since the ceremony. Ever since we boarded the train, she's been all business- talking strategy, thinking about sponsors, planning ahead. I can tell just by watching her. She's accepted it all so quickly, and here I am, barely able to think straight, let alone discuss survival skills over dinner. I start breaking down, and Allegra's there, the concern plainly written across her face, and the tears start welling up and I can't see straight anymore-

For the second time today, Allegra wraps her arms around me, and the tears are running down both of our faces now, as we cry out our worry and fear over what the upcoming days hold in store for us.

After who knows how much time has gone by, Allegra draws away, wiping her tears with her sleeve. Her silver necklace still glints at her throat, and she takes it off and plays with it for a moment. She takes a deep breath and sits up, turning to face me.

"Atticus, promise me you won't die," she says plainly, exhausted.

"What?"

"Promise me. I can't lose you."

"Allegra…" I can't make this promise.

"Atticus." Her voice is firm. Uncompromising. She's not going to argue with me on this one.

"Only if you promise me that you won't die," I reply. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before she opens them and nods grimly.

"Fine. Then I promise not to die," I say, relieved.

"Me too," she says. She stands, rubbing her eyes. "I'm going to go to bed. Good night." She walks to the door. She sends me a wink as the door gently shuts behind her.  
I wish she would stay.

 _ **ALLEGRA**_

As soon as the door's shut behind me, I wince. Atticus wanted me to stay, and I know it. We've never slept in different rooms before. But there's something more important that I have to take care of first. So I leave Atticus behind for now, the _MALE TRIBUTE_ plate on his door glinting in the soft hallway light. And I begin my search.

A few minutes later, I'm standing outside a door identical to my brother's, except the gold plate on its front reads _MALE MENTOR._ I knock, but there's no answer. I try the handle, which, to my pleasure, isn't locked. "Errol?" I call, stepping inside. The setup inside is nearly identical to Atticus's room.

Fumbling noises come from the bathroom. I hear some mild cursing. "Errol?" I try again.

The door flings open and Errol emerges, grumbling. "What on earth could you poss-"

He freezes as soon as he sees me. In his haste to answer the door, he's left his sleeves rolled up, revealing small bruises on his inner elbow. Behind him, I can see a needle resting on the bathroom sink. My jaw drops.

"He was right," I whisper, dumbfounded. "Oh, my God…"

"Allegra, let me explain," Errol pleads, yanking his shirt sleeve down.

Why didn't I trust Atticus? Errol was right, earlier; the most trustworthy person here is Atticus. Errol told me so himself. I start backing away, almost tripping on the luxurious carpet.

"Allegra, please. It's okay-"

"No, it's not," I say, my voice filling with anger. "You're a drug addict! I need you to help me get Atticus out alive, and I can't do that if you're… if you're high all the time!"

He bites his lip. "That's fair. But listen, it's a medicine-"

"Atticus already told me. You used to be addicted to morphling. Is that what that is?" I ask, gesturing at the bathroom behind him.

His face floods with guilt. "Allegra-"

"You know what? Forget it. Good night." I run from the room, slamming the door behind me. As I leave, I think I hear a sob from behind the door, but dismiss it. No wonder all his tributes have died.

Either way, it looks like my brother and I will be fighting these Games by ourselves.

 _ **ATTICUS**_

I'm just nodding off when the door creaks open, a warm light leaking in behind the girl opening it. Allegra's back, her hair loose and dressed in pajamas. She quickly shuts the door behind her and crawls into bed beside me.

I feel safe for the first time on this train, with something familiar next to me amid all the alien. I try to savor that security, knowing it could very well be the last time.

I fall asleep.

 ***Hey, guys! How did you like this one? A little heavier on the Allegra side, I know, but never fear- Atticus will have more of his moments soon!**

 **A huge thank-you to those who left reviews and decided to invest in this story. You guys honestly made my day, and I appreciate it a ton. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and another update should be coming soon!**

 **-r-b***


	3. Chariot Rides

_**ATTICUS**_

I wake up before Allegra does. Her body currently occupies more than her half of the bed, but I don't mind. I'm just glad she's here. I gently slide out from under the covers and into the cool air. Allegra rolls over and I stop, making sure she stays asleep. She does.

I take a quick shower, not even bothering trying to figure out the fancy knobs and buttons and products lining the interior. I change into a clean maroon sweater and some pants, after sorting through all sorts of weird Capitol-ish pieces. Some of them, I can't even tell what they're supposed to be. A shirt? A hat? Who knows?

After I'm finally ready for the day, Allegra's still asleep. I pull the curtains aside on the windows of my room and look out of them. Trees whizz by as we travel, just green blobs as they pass by. My mind fills with fantasies of going home, of eating breakfast with our family, of never being Reaped-

"Atticus?" Allegra calls. I turn as she sits up in bed, yawning. Her eyes blink slowly as they adjust to the light. Confusion mars her face for a moment, and I can see the exact moment when she remembers where we are. What the upcoming days hold.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she says. She untangles herself from the covers and picks up a pillow she must have pushed onto the floor during the night. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm alright," I reply, shoving my hands into my pockets. "I'll see you at breakfast."

She yawns again and then leaves, shutting the door gently behind her. I return to my window, quickly losing myself again in thought.

This time, though, it's about the Games. About the things Errol said last night about the arena and training. Survival skills, then weapons. I'd really rather not kill anyone in the first place, but I don't think I have that kind of choice anymore. If I want Allegra to survive, which I do, I might need to be able to do something drastic.

Allegra's going to outlive me either way, anyway. Any fear she was showing back at home disappeared the second she stepped on this train, replaced by logic and strategy. She might even be able to kill another tribute. Any emotion behind it would be reasoned away, at least for the moment, with the logic that not everyone could survive. She'd save guilt for when she was out of the arena. I wouldn't even be able to function.

Knowing my sister, her plan is to get me out of there alive. And I can't let that happen, because I'm determined that she's going to be going home. She's going to make it out of this.

 _ **ALLEGRA**_

After a quick shower, I get dressed and head back to the dining car. Only Errol is there, which is exactly what I had been hoping for.

He's sipping a cup of coffee when I enter the room. His gaze shifts up to meet mine, and his eyes widen instantly. "Allegra-" he stammers.

"I don't need an explanation," I say. His eyebrows raise in confusion. "Can I make a deal with you?"

He's intrigued, but is trying not to show it. "I-"

"Listen," I interrupt. "I'm not going to tell anyone about what I saw. Not even Atticus. I came here to tell you that our goal for the Games is going to be getting Atticus out of the arena."

He waits, silent.

"I'm going to try to make it as far as I can with him. But I want him to win. And you'll help me help him."

The disapproval is plain in his eyes.

"You have to. I can't stand going home without him, and I'm not going to."

"Have you spoken with him about this?" he asks.

My face flushes red. "No. I don't need to."

Behind Errol, the door bursts open, announcing our escort's arrival. Xaveria seats herself next to Errol, who raises an eyebrow again and sips his coffee. "Did I miss anything?" she asks cheerily. She must be a morning person.

"Nothing at all. Allegra and I were just chatting about life at home," Errol replies. "You know, before the Games, my plan had always been to become an engineer."

"What's that?" Xaveria asks, interested. Errol and I exchange a glance.

"They work on trains," Errol says. Xaveria nods and pours herself some tea, adding several sugars and stirring briskly.

"Fascinating," she says. "When I was younger, I wanted to be a fashion designer. Then I found out about this job, and here I am!"

"What about you, Allegra?" Errol asks.

I shrug. "Atticus was always into the math stuff. I just figured I'd end up in a factory or something. Maybe work in one of the shops downtown."

"Did I hear my name?" Atticus asks, stepping into the car behind me, from the same door I had just exited earlier.

"Just talking about math and stuff," I say dismissively. He smiles. "My favorite subject!"

"Who's ready to eat?" Xaveria asks, most likely trying to steer the conversation away from complex things like math and engineering. Avoxes soon begin bringing in breakfast foods, ranging from waffles and pancakes to french toast and oatmeal. Much more lavish than our usual spread at home, once again. I select chocolate-chip pancakes and dive in, Atticus devouring french toast next to me.

As the meal winds down, similarly to the night before, Errol decides to discuss the upcoming day. "When we arrive at the Capitol, you'll be sent to your stylist, and they'll get you ready for the chariot rides. Our costumes historically haven't been great, and probably won't be. During styling, be warned that there will be waxing involved."

I wrinkle my nose. Not looking forward to that part.

"During the chariot rides, try to look like allies. Be friendly. Be nice to the other tributes, but don't start making allies. Before we leave the train, grab your tokens, or else they won't be going into the arena with you. Or, if you want, I'll hold on to them for you. Doesn't matter. Either way, we'll be arriving soon. Any questions?"

* * *

 _ **ATTICUS**_

I step out into the room probably looking dumbfounded, but it's for a reason.

The enormous cavern holds twelve chariots, each with two stallions attached to the fronts. Other kids- other tributes- are milling about. Some are chatting, many sticking close to their district partner. One group is particularly animated, and based on their confidence and brawniness, and the faint recognition in the back of my mind, I'm guessing they're the Careers.

I walk closer to the chariots and find that each has a number boldly inscribed in it. It doesn't take me long to find number five, and I wait next to it, unsure of what to do. Allegra is nowhere to be seen. Not that I can't be alone-

"Hi."

I turn, surprised. The voice wasn't Allegra's. Instead, it came from a smaller, skinnier, redheaded girl, freckles spread across her nose and her skin pale. Her costume is bulky and metallic, with her hair piled atop her head and wires sticking out all over. It's not the best look, and I'm no fashion expert.

The girl sees me examining her outfit and sighs. "Yeah, I know. At least it's not as bad as Ten."

I look over. One's dressed as a cow, the other as a cattle wrangler. Yikes.

I look back to the girl. She smiles shyly. "I'm Phoebe. From District Three?"

I vaguely remember her from watching the Reapings now. A flash of pity had hit me at the time. She's definitely younger, around twelve or thirteen. And so small.

"I'm Atticus. I'm from District Six."

"The one with the twin?"

I'm surprised for a moment, then realize this is how I'll be known. I should get used to it- embrace it, even. Errol and Allegra are leaning towards that strategy anyway.

"Yeah."

She nods. I suddenly realize she's pitying _me_ now. I don't know what to say.

I clear my throat. "Well, um, what do you think of the Capitol?"

Her eyes light up. "The food alone is incredible! And their showers are amaaazing. I could get so used to those showers."

I find myself smiling as she jokes, even laughing once or twice. She's kind of funny. She's much more confident than I would have guessed from watching the Reapings. She's imitating the way the escorts talk when Allegra walks up.

She's dressed in the same outfit as me- a train conductor. A bedazzled pinstripe hat is snug on her head. A flannel shirt and blue overalls make up the rest of the outfit. She doesn't look too happy.

"Who are you?" she asks Phoebe, a hint of coldness in her voice. Hearing it, Phoebe takes a step back, stopping in the middle of her sentence. I shoot Allegra a look, but she ignores me.

"I-" Phoebe opens her mouth to respond, but Allegra cuts her off again.

"I'm going to speak with my brother now. Pleased to meet you."

Phoebe closes her mouth, turns on her heel, and leaves. I turn to Allegra.

"What was that?" I ask. "We were talking. She was nice to me."

"And I thought we agreed we weren't interested in allies," she shoots back. "I'm sorry. But this isn't the time to be making friends."

"Maybe it is, if it keeps them from killing us later. And you and Errol agreed you weren't interested. I had no part in that."

"Just because they're nice to you doesn't mean they can't kill you!" she says, struggling to keep her volume under control. "This isn't a game. This is about living until next week!"

I stare at her, shocked. A couple of conversations nearby stop as they turn to see what had gotten the twins so worked up.

Seeing the hurt in my eyes, she softens a little, some of the fire fading from her eyes. "Atticus, I'm just trying to keep you alive."

"Yeah, whatever," I mumble.

Before she can say anything else, Avoxes begin herding us to our chariots. A moment later, the chariots in front of us begin pulling away, and soon enough, we emerge from the cavern into the bright lights of the Capitol. I immediately forget about our argument as I take it all in.

The road ahead is lined with stands and cameras. Capitol citizens roar with excitement as we- the Careers especially- pass them by, waving amicably. Television screens line the sky above them, showing shots of each tribute pair. It's blinding, it's deafening, it's overwhelming, and I look to Allegra for support, who looks right back at me. She smiles a little in reassurance, nods and turns back to the crowds, waving. I try to follow her example.

Still, I can feel a fear setting in the back of my mind. A fear that these Games have already begun to change my sister into someone I don't recognize.

* * *

 _ **ALLEGRA**_

As soon as the Tribute Parade is finished, we're whisked back to the Tribute Center, where we'll begin training tomorrow morning. Errol is hanging out on a plush couch when we get to the sixth floor. Without saying a word, Atticus slips past me and heads to a bedroom, avoiding my gaze. I stare after him unhappily.

"What was that about?" Errol asks, noticing.

I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "We had an argument before the parade," I explain.

He frowns a little. "What about?"

I sigh. "It was stupid. He was just making friends, and I chased them away."

"You can't always be the protective older sister, Allegra. It can sometimes be a bad thing to be too aloof during this stage of the game."

I hesitate. "Actually, I'm not older. He is."

"What?"

"Atticus was born first, not me."

His brow furrows. "Oh. I guess I assumed wrong."

"A lot of people do."

After a moment of silence, I sigh again. "I'll go talk to him."

He nods, and I leave, bracing myself for another awkward conversation with my brother.

When I reach his room, he's looking out over the window at the lights of the Capitol. If I'm being honest, it's kind of beautiful. Even at this hour, the city is full of life. I wonder what the lives of the people who live here are like. Are they all just used to the extravagance we've seen while we've been here? Or is that just a show?

Atticus turns away from the window after a moment. He still won't look me in the eye.

"I'm sorry," I say. "For being bossy and chasing people away. I didn't- well, I did mean to, but I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

"It's not really that," he replies. "I've never seen you like that."

"Like what?"

"So… aggressive," he says apologetically. "I've never seen you talk to someone like you did to Phoebe. Or me." Seeing the confusion on my face, he adds, "The girl from Three. Phoebe."

Something in me deflates a little. Reading me like a book again, he says, "I know you don't want me to die, Allegra. But I don't want you to die either. I'm invested here too. I'm not naive." He's clearly been thinking about this for a while. At least since that moment earlier today, if not since the train ride here. "I'm doing my best to win too."

I nod, still turning his words over in my head. He meets my gaze for the first time in hours.

"I trust you," he says softly. "Trust me."

Guilt floods me. I suddenly realize the extent of his fear. It's not about death, it's about what he could lose. And he thinks he's losing me.

"I do. I'm sorry," I say. "I…" I'm not sure what else I should say.

"It's okay," he says.

I stand there awkwardly. "I'm going to go to bed now," I finally say, breaking the silence that had formed.

"Okay," he replies. "Goodnight, Allegra."

"Goodnight," I say.

Then I leave, closing the door behind me. My own room isn't too far away. I go to the shower immediately, washing off the glitter and makeup the stylists had carefully painted on this morning. God, it seems like weeks ago. Even District Six, our life before this, feels ages away.

Maybe Atticus was right. Maybe I do need to trust him more. He's all I have left, minus this necklace around my throat.

As I drift off into sleep, I can only wonder what tomorrow holds.

 ***Sorry for the long update! Summer gets crazy sometimes. Nonetheless, here's the third chapter! Any thoughts?**

 **Thanks for reading!***


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